Stairway to Heaven
by BeagleHolly
Summary: Tangled! AU - Castiel longs for a chance to visit the city that releases beautiful floating lights each year on the night of his birthday, but is kept locked up in a tower by his overprotective father. His life is one of learning and routine and is becoming less tolerable with each day. One day, a mysterious stranger manages to climb to the tower, changing Castiel's life forever.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

A/N: This is an AU- sort of a Supernatural crossover with Tangled (the movie). It's been done before, but this is my own interpretation. Enjoy

**Important story note: in this world, all the nobility (Kings, Queens, Princes, Lords, Ladies, etc) and clergy have wings – basically, in this world, monarchs literally have 'divine right,' The Royal Guard is composed of lesser nobles' offspring, their second (etc) born children or those not immediately in line for their parents' titles. **

Oooo

PROLOGUE:

Centuries ago, God communicated with Earth for the last time. A single drop of Holy Grace dropped to Earth one night, lighting up the sky like a shooting star as it fell. The golden Grace seeped into the ground, and before the night was through, an even more magnificent flower had grown where the Grace had landed. One day, an old, pious man stumbled upon the flower and, overcome by its beauty, knelt to pray besides it. Surely, he thought to himself, the flower had come from God, like the burning bush had been shown to Moses. Throughout the night, he prayed and feelings of warmth and strength overtook him. In his joy, he began to sing psalms and hymns. Immediately, his feelings of warmth and strength intensified, until his entire body was tingling. He opened his eyes and gazed upon the flower, which shone even more intensely. He reached out to touch it, but before he could do so, he noticed that his hand had changed, reverted to a younger form of itself. The wrinkles, calluses and liver spots had disappeared, leaving behind flesh smoother and suppler that it had been for over fifty years. Pulling up the sleeves of his travelling cloak, the man laughed in delight to see his arms were no longer shaky and weak. Incredulous, he raised a hand to run it through what was left of his hair, only to be surprised by a thick, curly mane. The man, whose name was Michael, who had always been devoutly religious but wandering and lost, felt like God had finally spoken to him. Over the next few years, he began a church for a local village a few miles away from the flower, where he gave beautiful, eloquent sermons and tended to his parish well. As the years passed, however, Michael became obsessed with the flower- with how strong and powerful it kept him, and was loath to abandon it. He worried what would happen if others were to find the flower, justifying to himself in increasingly twisted ways why he could not use it to help his people. One day, Michael decided his youthful appearance was too distressing to his followers, considering how long he had been preaching to them, and abdicated his responsibilities, passing the church on to a loyal disciple, Raphael. He retreated to a nearby wood, where he built a small cottage hidden away from the roads and paths that ran through it, and lived comfortably there for many years.

Oooooo

One day, the land's pregnant queen fell desperately ill and all the doctors of the land were unable to do more than ease her pain. In desperation, her husband sent out his Royal Guard to find a cure. The soldiers split up and covered every inch of the kingdom, until one heard rumors of a magical flower of youth in a village at the borders closest to the royal city. He rode off to find it and spent days there searching. He found nothing, until, after a long days' fruitless search, he had fallen asleep in a meadow with his horse grazing besides him. The soldier awoke early in the morning to find his horse had gone, and he tracked the horse's prints to a small hill. Atop the hill was a bizarre sort of blind, like those he had used when out hunting. Curious, he ignored his horse and went to investigate. There, he discovered a stunning golden flower, which looked almost as if it were pulsating with energy. He carefully plucked the flower, believing it to be the one from the rumors, and neatly tucked it into his satchel, before riding off at full-speed to the palace.

The other soldiers had long since returned empty-handed and they greeted him morosely, thinking their last hope was gone. Instead, he produced the flower, and was ushered to the palace's grand church. The Royal Priest blessed and sang psalms over the flower, and then gave it to the Royal Doctor to serve to the queen. She drank the sweet-smelling liquid reluctantly, but before she had even finished the chalice's contents, her complexion had brightened and her eyes began to sparkle. Within an hour's passing, the queen was returned to full health and the kingdom rejoiced. The king sent his knights to search the area where the flower had been found for more, but finding none, they returned for the festivities celebrating the new prince's birth.

Oooooo

Michael heard about the queen's miraculous flower cure soon afterwards. He often hid inside his old church to attend mass, because he did appreciate the beautiful building he had built himself, as well as Raphael's moving sermons. Upon hearing Raphael's joyful announcement of the queen's full recovery and the birth of a prince who would be presented to his people for a festival in a week's time, Michael raced off to where the flower had been. He raged and cursed God at its disappearance; he was already beginning to age rapidly once more and he worried of the time he had left. Returning to his cottage, he packed for his voyage and took a coach to the royal city, desperate to find his flower.

The day of the celebration was a gorgeous spring's day. The sky was an ethereal blue, with not a cloud to be seen. It was warm enough so everyone was dressed comfortably in their best springtime clothing and was more than happy to spend time on the immense city pavilion. Children raced about, screaming and giggling, while their parents talked excitedly, enjoying the warm day and the beautiful flowers arranged everywhere. Michael pushed his way through the crowds until he stood right in front of the special balcony the royal family used to give speeches. He waited, fidgeting in anxiety, until a messenger came out with several horn players, announcing the imminent arrival of the royal family.

The king stepped out first, to the crowd's exuberant cheering. He smiled and waved, before beckoning to his wife inside the castle. She stepped out into the sun, looking the picture of perfect health, and in her arms was clutched a small baby boy. The young prince had wispy black hair and piercing blue eyes, and was dressed in a loose shirt that covered his tiny wings. The people cheered and sang until the family returned inside and then tucked into an enormous feast provided for them. Michael joined them, but did not participate in their enthusiastic conversations, instead planning how he would sneak into the royal chambers to search for the flower. He ate quickly and then departed for the palace's church, seeking out the priest who had been a dear friend when he had first built his own church.

"Hello, Father," Michael said, as he entered the priest's apartment.

"Father Michael!" the man cried, rushing to greet his old friend. "It has been so long! I have tried in vain to locate you, but you have gone down a most ascetic path, I heard."

"I felt my flock had grown tired of an old man's ramblings and needed a younger, more energetic preacher," Michael smiled. "Raphael has been working wonders in my place."

"I have attended a few of his masses, and he is indeed a worthy replacement. But, you were always the best, and I could not believe your followers could ever grow weary of you."

"Thank you for your generous compliments."

"How did you enjoy the festivities? The new prince is an absolute delight, is he not? His new wings, which you must see, shine golden, like the flower that saved his mother. Anyways, would you like to stay the night? It's a long trip back home and it's the least I could do for the man who taught me all I know."

"If you have the space, I would be delighted to reminisce with you."

Michael and the priest talked long into the night, before the priest declared he must get to bed.

"I'm afraid I must depart very early in the morning, my friend," Michael said. "I would like to be at least to Gloryton by nightfall. Thus, I must make my goodbyes now."

"I understand, and I thank you for your company. I would enjoy another visit, if you can spare the time."

"Gladly, Father. I thank you for your hospitality."

The priest shuffled off to bed and was snoring in minutes. Michael paced about the sitting room for what felt like hours, and then snuck into the palace through the church's backdoor. The Royal Guards were either inebriated or patrolling the city, so Michael made his way undisturbed through the palace. It was not difficult finding the royal chambers, and even less so lifting the sleeping infant from his crib and stealing out into the night. A couple of close calls with the patrolling guards outside excepted, Michael managed to make his way home within two days completely without trouble.

Oooo

Michael stayed with the boy, raising him as his own, in the cottage for three months. The boy's wings grew far quicker than normal and were infinitely more glorious to behold than Michael's own, stubby, dull grey wings that were only shadows of their former glory. Michael's wings seemed to degenerate every time he used the flower's Grace on himself, but he didn't mind, as they were easily hidden beneath his usual cloak. Besides, the boy's wings seemed to have acquired the powers of the flower that had saved his life, and Michael would groom them, singing the old psalms and hymns until the warm tingling had rejuvenated him.

His paranoia, however, increased with time, and soon he set off with the boy on his back. He travelled aimlessly for several weeks until he stumbled across a crumbling ruin of an old castle, far smaller than the one the royal family currently inhabited. All that remained was a tall tower, with a small, somewhat concealed door at its base and a small balcony at its peak. Michael carefully explored the interior, finding a towering staircase and a pleasant room at the top. In his strong, youthful state, he was able to use rubble from the rest of the ruins to repair the mostly sturdy tower and he cleared the thick strands of ivy from the exterior. The tower soon looked as good as new, and there Michael raised the young prince, who he named Castiel, after an angel his mother had once told him about. Fearing the boy's discovery, he kept Castiel always in the tower, providing him with toys, games, and many books, but always had the one key to the door with him. On one birthday, he presented his son with a small chameleon for companionship, an animal he deemed unlikely to draw attention to the tower, unlike a barking dog or nimble-footed cat might. Castiel doted on the chameleon and seemed perfectly content, never growing lonely or scared when his father left on his many journeys. He learned to paint masterfully and to cook, and clean, and sing beautiful hymns. He enjoyed the times when his father would return home, and they would sing together, while Michael stroked his wings. Castiel loved his father, and was glad his healing powers could help him so much, feeling like it was a small token of thanks for the many gifts Michael presented him.

As much as he enjoyed his father's visits, his favorite times were the annual floating lights that always appeared on the nights of his birthday. He would sit for hours watching them, and later, painting them. Castiel's proudest achievement was the beautiful mural of the lights he had painted on the walls. His father always warned him of the dangers of the world, and Castiel's books didn't seem to contradict this, but Castiel still longed, one day, to see those floating lights released. He had dreams where he stood with a faceless family besides a large body of water, releasing the lights into the night sky and watching all night long with an entire village of people. In fact, it was mostly the nights before and after the night of the lights (he stayed up all night then) where he was most acutely aware of his loneliness and isolation. One day, he thought, he would travel to the light's source, and meet the people who carried on this beautiful ritual. People capable of such an event surely must be wonderful. Until then, however, he practiced fighting and read up on survival skills and military strategy, hoping Michael would see how strong and tough he'd become, and believe him fit enough to travel into that dangerous world below.


	2. Chapter 2: Castiel's Birthday Wish

A/N: I did some research about chameleons, and apparently they have exceptionally poor hearing and relatively short lifespans (3-5 years or so?). However, as this is fantasyland, Gabriel the chameleon will be of some invented species with human-like hearing, Disney-animal intelligence, a miraculous digestive system, and a prolonged lifespan (hand-waves). Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter- feedback = awesome!

oooo

It was a bright, crisp morning; the sky was as blue as Castiel's eyes. He awoke early to the sound of birds chirping from the nearby treetops. What a perfect way to start one's day, Castiel though to himself, smiling and stretching as he climbed from his bed.

"Gabriel!" Castiel called, searching about his rooms for his beloved chameleon. Gabriel was fond of playing tricks on his human and was surprisingly clever for a lizard. This time, he appeared to be playing hide-and-seek. "Gabriel, where are you?"

He heard a small rustle of papers behind him, but pretended to ignore the chameleon. "Oh well, I guess that's more candy for me then."

Castiel turned to his desk and pulled a small pouch of candies from a drawer. He slowly began to unwrap one, watching Gabriel skitter across the floor, changing color to match the different colors of Castiel's patchwork rug. The chameleon seemed to give up, or get distracted by the prospect of candy, and was running up Castiel's front within seconds.

"Well, I guess you can have one. I'm feeling generous." Castiel fed the chameleon several candies before turning to survey his rooms. "Oh dear. I'd better start cleaning before Father gets here."

Castiel spent the remainder of the morning sweeping, dusting, mopping, polishing, and organizing so things would like nice for Michael. While the high ceilings of the tower might make cleaning hard for others, Castiel could easily float and clean, powered by indolent flaps of his immense wings. He sang loudly as he worked, and tried not to move too quickly, so as not to unseat Gabriel, who clung tightly to his hair. The chameleon mostly napped, catching the occasional fly if it buzzed near enough. Finally, as the late morning sun began to shine through the open window, Castiel plopped down in a chair and declared the rooms satisfactory. He tried to concentrate on his latest book while he waited for Michael, but soon gave up and idly tossed bits of candy to Gabriel. As usual, his thoughts turned to the annual lights and he felt himself growing in excitement. Maybe this would be the year Michael would take him outside of the tower to see them! Castiel had greatly improved in his fighting skills, and perhaps this year would make him finally mature enough to be able to handle such a voyage. Smiling to himself, his mind returned to his usual daydreams of standing under a purple-black sky, releasing thousands of beautiful lights with a vast crowd of similarly entranced people. He could picture himself talking with all sorts of people, who had all gathered to this one place for such a special occasion. He could see Michael smiling proudly at his son, who had not disappointed him on their journey, and who would be glad to share something so special with him.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, lost in thought, but after a good deal of time, he could hear the tower door below unlock. Castiel bounded to his feet and waited patiently by the locked trapdoor in his floor. He could hear Michael stomping up the long, winding staircase, and then the fiddling of the key in the lock. He stepped back just in time for the trapdoor to swing open with a loud crash.

"Hello, Castiel," Michael said, climbing through the trapdoor awkwardly. "You're growing so fast. Only a little while before you turn 18!"

"Is that important?" Castiel asked, head tilting slightly.

"Why, of course! People celebrate the 18th birthday as a sort of rite of passage into adulthood. My little boy is growing up. Alright, what would you like for your present this year?"

"Since I will be an adult, apparently, I was wondering if you might finally allow me to go with you to the light festival this year."

"Oh Castiel, I wasn't planning on going this year. Trust me, it's a much more spectacular view from here."

"Please? I can't imagine it would take more than a week or two of travel at most. It would be nice to spend some time with you, Father, and you know how I've always wanted to go! I've made much progress with my self-defense training."

Before he could do anything, Michael had whipped behind him, seized his arms and pinned them so that Castiel was unable to move.

"If your weak father is able to do this, just imagine what a hardened criminal or bandit could do. I'm afraid the answer is no, son."

"But you-"

"Let this be a lesson for you. You can't trust anyone outside this tower. Everyone, no matter how lovely or helpful they may appear at first, is not to be trusted, especially not for someone as special as you. Now what else can I g-?"

"But, you're allowed to leave, Father."

"Castiel!" Michael boomed, anger overtaking his normally peacefully beautiful face. "I do it for you, to keep you safe and to give you all these books and gifts. In order to keep you protected, I must work, but let me tell you, if I could stay up here all the time, I would. I have seen the world out there, and you must trust me when I tell you it's not worth its troubles. Now, please, don't ruin this for us. What would you like instead?"

"Would you mind giving me some time to think about it?" Castiel sighed. "I haven't considered anything else."

"Alright, Castiel. Now, sing to your wings for me please, and then I must get on my way."

Castiel sat down reluctantly besides his father and began to sing, leaning into the comforting feeling of Michael stroking his wings. He could feel the warmth of his feathers, and was filled with calmness as his father began to hum along. He watched as his father's face began to smoothen, and his muscle tone improved. He also noticed a few dull brown feathers float to the ground, and the older man's dingy wings sag behind him. Feeling a bit sorry for his father, he tried to wrap his arms around him to comfort him, only to be patted condescendingly on the head.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Michael said, barely looking at his son. Without another word, he was through the trapdoor. He locked it quickly and pounded down the stairs, filled with energy and high spirits. Castiel moved to the window and watched longingly as his feather walked off through the meadows and into the forest. He spent the rest of the afternoon on his balcony, just watching all the creatures below enjoying the nice weather in a way he never could.


End file.
